Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
***
"Where's all this power coming from?"
It was Saturday morning and Dad and I had been at the gym for what felt like hours. But in reality it had probably only been one. It was early enough that the sun was out, but the gym was still pretty much empty.
"Just fired up," I said, continuing to throw uppercuts onto his boxing pads. "Lots of energy to release."
He was thoughtful for a moment. "That's not it." Dad was observant. It came with his profession, but then again I was his daughter so maybe he just knew me.
It had been four days since Drew and I had fought and I was still messed up about it. Just thinking about what had transpired had me reaching to punch even harder.
Dad resisted the hits like they were nothing and for some reason it aggravated me and made me work harder.
"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" He asked worriedly.
"Not really." I attempted to sound nonchalant, not wanting to seem affected.
"Switch," Dad told me and he lowered his arms and i bent my knees to prepare myself to start lower-cut punches. "Go."
With his signal, I angled my arms and began hitting so my black gloves furiously met the padding.
"Is it because of Brisbane and the moving thing?" He asked me.
"No, dad," I puffed. "I think it's great really. You spend so much of your time travelling," I let out a breath and inhaled deeply. "It's nice to know you're going to be settled for a while."
Dad didn't ask anymore questions and i focused on converting all of my energy into power. The rest of our session was mostly quiet, except for gasps, intakes of breath and Dad critiquing my movements when necessary.
"don't put so much pressure on your wrist."
"stand with your feet closer together."
But we had been doing this for so long that I was already conscious of the mistakes I was making, my anger was just making me sloppy.
Dad handed me a clean towel when we were finished and I used it to wipe off the sweat covering my bare stomach, arms and neck.
"Is this about that boy you're messaging?"
I don't know if it was possible to faint from sheer surprise but at this moment it really felt like it was.
"How the-" I had never used the word flabbergasted in my life but I'm sure that's how I felt. "How do you know about that?"
"Do you truly believe Luke would do anything concerning your safety without consulting me first? Besides, how do you think he had our address to send you that package? He directed it towards the security team at the office and had it sent there first."
Damnit. How naive of me to think Luke wouldn't rat me out.
I responded with a different question. "Did you read it?"
Dad picked up our water bottles and passed my green one to me before taking a chug from his black one.
"Skimmed through it." He admitted. Knowing I was talking about the background check. I was surprised, I would have expected him to inspect it thoroughly. "Luke had already gone over it in detail. I really only payed attention to his prior convictions."
We had been making our way to of the gym when I physically stopped in shock. "What the fück?" I cursed, "What priors?"
I didn't know him at all.
Dad didn't scold me for me language, how could he when it was a habit i picked up from him.
"Relax," He pushed his wavy brown hair off of his clammy forehead. "You wouldn't still be speaking to him if he done anything extreme. They were all minor altercations. Completely resolved."
We continued walking through the foyer of the gym. We didn't need to bring sports bags since the gym was situated inside our apartment building. My towel was slung over my shoulder, my water bottle in my hand. I stayed quiet on our elevator ride, happy that it was empty of any other residents. They didn't need to see my post work out hair.
My mind was going through all sorts of scenarios, wondering what it was exactly that Drew had done. I didn't want to admit that i missed talking to him, but I did. I didn't expect us to keep texting when he found out i wasn't Za. But we had.
It had been slow conversation at first, a text here, a gif there.
But what seemed like all of a sudden, we were messaging one another practically every day.
The elevator dinged me out of my mini pity party and we stepped out.
"Don't you want to ask me what he did?" Dad asked, unlocking the door and letting me in.
I put my water bottle on the bench, sat in a stool and let out a sigh. Being angry was tiring.
"No, that's the problem. We're kind of in a fight."
Dad leaned on the bench. "Why?" He asked curiously.
"Because he doesn't talk to me about this stuff." It was like I couldn't hold it in anymore. "We've been friends for months and he just won't tell me much about himself. Trying to get information out of him is so difficult."
"Maybe he's a private person." Dad offered. "Most of his transgressions happened years ago, maybe he's trying to better himself and move on."
"It's not just this." I explained. "He just doesn't tell me much about his personal life in general. And why are you being so calm about this? Most dads would freak out, not be giving their daughters boy advice." My agitation was starting to seep through and I was wrongly taking it out on dad.
"Most dads didn't raise you. I know who I raised. Sash, you're the most careful person I've ever met. I trust you enough to know that you'd never put yourself in a dangerous situation. In saying that, you have to remember that sometimes it takes time for friends to open up to one other. Be patient."
Friends. I didn't correct dad and tell him about my lame crush. I could barely acknowledge it, much less tell people about it.
He grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. "Talk it out with this Justin kid ok?" He took a big bite out of the fruit and munched.
I suppose he was right. It was a bit unfair of me to expect Drew to tell me about his entire life when really, we hadn't even known each other for half a year. I let out a breath of air, "Yeah yeah I'll text---wait, did you just call him Justin?"
